


The Roof

by anteachrist



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-12 19:10:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7118935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anteachrist/pseuds/anteachrist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The roof has always been my favourite place to sit. It’s easy to climb up onto from my balcony and is flat, so I can actually manage to sit there. in the mornings, I’ll sit up there and drink my coffee, watch the sunrise. On mid afternoons, the rare ones I have free, I climb up there with a book and read under the sun, but my favourite time is late in the day. Just as the sun is starting to set, I’ll climb up there with a blanket, a book and some tea and watch as the lights of the city come to life. It’s calming, watching the city from this perspective, watching everything go on around you without actually being involved. Like i’m a million miles away, but have never felt more at home. </p>
<p>or in which Combeferre finds peace in sitting on the roof, but finds even more peace in the boy that lives across from him</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Roof

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lesmiserablol](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesmiserablol/gifts).



> I wrote this for my good friend Jo, and she gave me permission to post it so yay!
> 
> The songs Courf sings in order are:  
> War of Hearts by Ruelle  
> Victorious by Panic! at the Disco  
> Vienna by Billy Joel

**{Ferre}**   
  
  The roof has always been my favourite place to sit. It’s easy to climb up onto from my balcony and is flat, so I can actually manage to sit there. In the mornings, I’ll sit up there and drink my coffee, watch the sunrise. On mid afternoons, the rare ones I have free, I climb up there with a book and read under the sun, but my favourite time is late in the day. Just as the sun is starting to set, I’ll climb up there with a blanket, a book and some tea and watch as the lights of the city come to life. It’s calming, watching the city from this perspective, watching everything go on around you without actually being involved. Like i’m a million miles away, but have never felt more at home.   
  
***   
  
  The kettle whistles angrily at me; I reach to take it off the burner and pour the scalding water into my mug. It’s a pastel blue. I grab a tea bag from the cupboard and drop it in the mug. With my book tucked under one arm and two blankets in the other I start my quest to the roof. It’s a bit of a struggle getting up there without spilling my tea, but I manage. I settle in wrapping myself up to protect myself from the cold air. I let the air wrap around me. It’s refreshing after being trapped in stuffy classrooms all day. Plus, it’s cold season. Gross. 

   I close my eyes, feeling muscles relax and my heartbeat slow down. I take a tentative sip of my tea, the warmth spreading out to my extremities. It’s peaceful; quiet, even though I’m mere blocks from downtown. The almost silence is broken though, by a melodious voice carrying through the alley the separates my building from the next. 

  _“I can’t help but love you, even though I try not to, I can’t help but want you, I know  I'd die without you..”_

  The tune sounds familiar, it was in some show that Jehan made me watch I think. I crane my neck to peer down the alley in the direction from which the voice is coming. I see a boy- a man, with a bag of trash in his hand. The light in the alley casts a glow over him, making the curls on his head lustrous. He can’t be more than twenty. He continues to sing as he throws the trash into the dumpster, as if he believes no one can hear him.

  _“i can’t help but be wrong in the dark, cause i’m overcome in this war of hearts, i can’t help but want oceans to part, cause i’m overcome in this war of hearts..”_

  His voice is nice; soothing, maybe a little off key but it doesn’t make a whole lot of difference. With a final note he lets out a laugh and disappears inside. I sigh, wrapping the blanket tighter around myself. I take another sip of my tea, watching the lights of the city glitter. I make a mental note to find that song when I get the chance.   
  
***   
  
It’s morning, 5:45 to be exact, and the sun is peeking just barely over the horizon. The city is just starting to wake up, not yet buzzing with morning activity. I take small sips of my coffee, rubbing my tired eyes under my glasses. The smells of the bakery on the corner waft up to where I sit and I smile, making a mental note to grab some of those strawberry tarts that Jehan likes. Music plays softly in my ears, that song that the boy was singing a few nights ago. It’s good, I’m really into it. It plays on my phone now, quietly. The sound of a closing door disrupts me from my peace and I’m quick to pause the music. I peer off the top of the roof to see the same boy from a few nights ago with an armful of cardboard boxes and the same melodic voice carrying through the alley. 

_“double bubble disco queen, headed to the guillotine..”_

  Well that’s quite morbid. I crane my neck to get a look at the boy again. I’m able to see him better in the early morning light, but not by much due to the distance. 

_“my touch is black and poisonous, but nothing like my punch drunk kiss, i know you need it, do you feel it? drink the water, drink the wine.”_  he sings and his voice is shrill and loud. Too loud for this early in the morning. I resist the urge to yell down at him to shut up, but that would only create more noise. So I opt to keep my mouth shut. It’s not that he’s bad, he’s actually pretty good. It’s that he doesn’t seem to realize how loud he’s being in such a close proximity to others. He disappears back inside before the song is over and I go back to sipping my coffee, humming subconsciously to myself. I polish off the cup before climbing off the roof and back into my apartment to get ready for the day.   
  
*** 

  “Someone has a crush.” Bossuet says, grabbing one of the pastries from the box that I bought. I snatch the box away from him, handing it off to Jehan who the sweets were intended for. 

  “I don’t have a crush. I haven’t even spoken to him. I merely have an interest.” I explain, dropping down next to Jehan. 

  “Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Bossuet replies, sitting across from me. “Sounds like a crush if you ask me.” Jehan nods in agreement. 

  “You don’t need to have spoken to someone to feel for them Combeferre. Feelings are of the heart and soul, not of the mouth and mind.” 

  “Don’t encourage him!” I say, and they both laugh.   
  
***   
  
  It’s been a long couple of weeks, with tests and meetings and busy nights at work. It’s nearly two o’clock in the morning when I finally shut my front door behind me, and I let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding. The first thing I do is turn on the kettle in the kitchen, waiting for it to boil while I swap my jeans for some plaid pajama pants. I hear the kettle angrily beep at me from the kitchen and I make my way to it, pouring the hot water over a tea bag. I take my cup of tea, my phone and a blanket and make my way up to the roof. It’s not long before I feel my nerves start to settle. I watch the lights of the city twinkle ahead of me and let myself smile for the first time in a while.

_“Slow down, you crazy child, you’re so ambitious for a juvenile. But then if you’re so smart tell me why are you still so afraid?”_ I hear and I know it’s him. I haven’t seen him in a while because of how busy and tired I’ve been. His voice washes over me like a wave and I physically shiver. I look around to try and sneak a glance at him, and this time I’m surprised to see he has no garbage of anything, just a cup of tea in his hands. He’s sitting on steps outside what I’m assuming is his back door, singing in between sips.

_“Where's the fire, what's the hurry about? You better cool it off before you burn it out. You got so much to do and only so many hours in a day..”_ he sings, he sounds content. Happy, even, and it’s a nice refresher. I watch him tapping his feet, lifting the cup to his mouth, taking small sips, when I feel an itch in the back of my nose. No, oh _no_ , don’t you _dare_ sneeze! He’ll know I’m here and that I’ve been listening to him and then he’ll stop. My body seems to have other ideas and I reel back before letting out a loud, obnoxious sneeze. The singing comes to an abrupt halt and my heart sinks. I take a careful look back at the boy and see him staring right back at me. Unexpectedly, a smile breaks out on his face, and he waves. My eyes widen as I scramble to get off the roof. In my haste to get down, I hit my mug with my hand and watch as it falls to the ground and shatters on the floor of the alley. I sigh, climbing down from my roof more carefully so I don’t end up like my mug. I slip on some shoes at the front door and make my way downstairs. I’m greeted by a pair of wide, green eyes as I open the back door and i can’t help the small scream that leave my lips.

  “You dropped your mug.” the boy says, gesturing to the pile of shattered ceramic that lays on the ground.

  “Uh, yeah I was just coming to clean it up.” I say, but not moving.

  “You’re the one that’s always watching me sing.” he says, and my eyes widen. He noticed? A laugh escapes him and he smiles brightly at me. “Yeah, I noticed. You’re not exactly subtle. Don’t worry I don’t mind!” I notice many things that I couldn’t tell from a distance. Like the way his voice always goes up at the end of his sentences, and how he bounces slightly on his toes when he talks.

  “I, uh, I’m sorry. It’s not exactly proper of me to spy on you..” I say, scratching the back of my neck awkwardly.

  “Like I said, I don’t mind. I’m Courfeyrac, by the way!” he says, sticking out his hand. I take it in mine, shaking it.

  “I’m Combeferre.” I say, unable to not return his bright smile.

  “Well, Combeferre, since I’ve done so much singing for you, I think it’s about time you do something for me.  Like, take me on a date, perhaps?” he says.

  “Oh! Um, yeah, sure, I’d love to.”

  “Awesome! I guess, I’ll see you around Combeferre. You know where to find me.” he says, and bounds back to his door, giving me one more wave before disappearing inside. I slump against the door frame, a blush in my cheeks and a smile on my face. He's quite the breath of fresh air, and gives me a feeling of comfort that not even the nicest summer night on my roof over Paris could give me.

 


End file.
